


Balancing the Books

by BarPurple



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angry Sex, Blow Job, Cunnilingus, F/M, Not Friends, Not Lovers, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12083328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Missing rent money and impulse decisions lead to something unconventional.





	1. Chapter 1

Belle shuddered at the step-step-tap sound that echoed around her library ten minutes before closing. Everyone in Storybrooke knew who that sound belonged to. Mister Gold, landlord, pawnbroker, deal maker and total bastard. The pedantic nerd in her pointed out that since no one was sure of his parentage the moniker ‘total bastard’ might be incorrect, but the rest of her agreed with the general feeling in town that Gold wasn’t born, he was spawned from some pit of Hell.

Belle forced her hands to release the white knuckled grip on the edge of the book trolley and turned to face the man himself with a totally fake, but sunny smile on her face.

“Mister Gold, what can I do for you today?”

He took a moment to plant his cane in front of him and fold his fingers together over the handle. Belle knew this move, had seen Gold use it to devastating effect on her father and other people who owed him money. That dramatic pause coupled with a subtle reminded of his wealth had reduced many to pre-empt his demands with stammered excuses. Belle wasn’t going to fall for it. That cane handle might shine like gold but it was brass, had to be or it would have deformed under the pressure of his fingers ages ago.

“I am afraid Miss French I am here to discuss your rent.”

“I paid it yesterday, Mister Gold, as you well know.”

Gold rolled his shoulders and leaned back, not quite resting his back against the shelves behind him. A smug smile played at the corners of his mouth and Belle found her fingers gripping the book trolley again to prevent herself from slapping him.

“My apologies, I should have more correctly said the short fall in your rent. The envelope you gave me was fifty dollars under.”

Belle’s eyes narrowed. She’d counted the rent out four times to make sure it was correct, and she’d finally given into the urge she’d had every month and slipped the handy information leaflet about the bank’s direct transfer service in with the cash.

“I have no way of knowing if that is true Mister Gold. I put the correct amount into the envelope as I do each and every month. I cannot be held responsible if you failed to check the amount before you left the premises. Caveat emptor.”

He dipped his head and inspected the shine on the toe of his shoes, then looked up at her through the curtain of his hair.

“I think since you are the buyer in this situation the phrase should be Caveat venditor, perhaps?”

She nipped her tongue between her teeth and let her scowl deepen. Couldn’t fault the bastard on passable Latin. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and gave him a smile that felt saccharine on her face.

“Well, I say I have paid, you say I haven’t. There is little proof on either side, so what do you propose we do?”

She had planned to stroll casually by him and leave him to trail after her to demand the missing rent money, but after her first step the heel of her shoe snapped and she crashed to her knees right in front of him. She only avoided head-butting his cane because he shifted it so quickly to the side. She kept her eyes on the floor as she took a breath to recover from the jarring impact. He cleared his throat.

“An unconventional way to make up the rent, Miss French.”

Belle’s teeth ground together, typical fucking man thinking a woman on her knees was only there to please him. She was about to push herself to her feet and snap at him for his inappropriate comment when she caught sight of the tremble in his leg, not the one than he needed his cane for; his left leg, his good leg was shaking ever so slightly. A spark of devilment caused her to look up very slowly, batting her lashes as she met his eyes.

“Would it be acceptable?”

His eyes almost fell out of his head and his Adam’s apple bobbed so rapidly she thought she might have shocked him into a heart attack.

“I…I don’t… erm, never have done that, er, for business Miss French.”

Mister Gold the Beast of Storybrooke reduced to a jibbering wreck? Oh this was too much fun to stop so soon. Belle licked her lips and took a brief moment to decide how far she was willing to take this. She’d done some wild things at college when she went by her middle name. Racy Lacey had quite the reputation for taking her pleasure as and when she liked, no strings attached. She’d always been in control and that was true here as well. She’d never been paid for sexual favours, but since she knew damn well that the rent was correct she wouldn’t be trading money for sex now would she? This was a power play and she’d take it all the way, but would Gold?

She sat back on her heels and ran one finger feather light up the perfect crease in his suit trousers. She stopped at his knee and rubbed the fabric between her thumb and fingers, not making any contact with his trembling leg at all.

“I’m willing, if you are.”

He gave a strangled yelp that might have been the start of a word, but she wasn’t sure. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Wh…what do you mean?”

It was tempting to roll her eyes at him, but she managed to stop herself. The way he was behaving you would have thought no one had ever offered him a blow job before.

“I am offering to perform fellatio on you right now to settle the matter of the allegedly missing rent.”

He was staring at her slack jawed as if she was speaking in a foreign language. At this rate they’d be here all night, she sighed and let a touch of impatience show in her voice.

“Limited time offer Mister Gold, speak now or forget I even offered.”

She pulled her hand back and made to stand up. His hand shot forward, but stopped long before he touched her.

“Yes, please?”

He sounded so hesitant that for a moment she wondered if this was Mister Gold at all. She shifted forward and ran her thumbs up the inside of his thighs. He made a choked whimpering sound when she cupped him through his trousers and sagged back against the shelves. Belle was tempted to drag this out to see what other sounds she could get out of him, but he wasn’t her lover, this was a business blow job and nothing more.

With that in mind she didn’t unbuckle his belt, just unzipped his fly and teased his half hard cock out of the opening. He was already breathing hard as she stroked him; this probably wasn’t going to last long. When was the last time he got laid? She was aware of his head thumping against the shelves when she took him into her mouth. His reaction made her smile around his cock as she set to work to bring him off. It certain wasn’t the best blow job she’d ever given, but this wasn’t about pleasure. She set a brutal pace, bobbing her head and sucking while she lashed him with her tongue. From the sounds he was making he didn’t give a damn about her lack of finesse. He’d not reached for her head or tried to touch her in anyway, but when Belle glanced up at him he was watching her intently like he couldn’t actually believe this was happening.

His cock jerked against her tongue and Belle decided that she didn’t want to swallow. She reached up and tugged his pocket square from his breast pocket. Sliding her mouth from him and wrapping the deep blue silk around his cock was easy enough. It only took three or four hard strokes before his hips jerked forward into her hand and he came with a groan.

Once his he stilled Belle wiped him off with the now ruined silk square and rose to her feet. Gold was still panting and looked thoroughly fucked. She took a strange delight in tucking the soiled pocket square back into his top pocket.

His tongue darted over his lips and she could see he was trying to compose himself enough to speak. If he thought he was getting the last word he was very much mistaken.

“Please show yourself out Mister Gold. I have to lock up.”

The snapped heel of her shoe didn’t cause her any problems as she strolled away from him, this wasn’t the first time she’d walked on a broken heel. In the privacy of her office she watched the security cameras until he walked out of the library. He’d looked every bit like the Beast of Storybrooke again, composed and haughty. She wondered if he’d look that way went they next crossed paths in the street or at Granny’s. Belle deleted the last hour of security footage and went to lock the front door.


	2. Chapter 2

Gold strolled back to his shop with a frown on his face. It wasn’t until he was safely behind a locked door and slumped in the chair at his workbench that the frown melted into a look of dazed confusion. He honestly wasn’t sure if the last hour or so had actually happened, or had just been a vivid dream. As far as he was aware he’d never dreamed of Miss French in such a way. He wasn’t blind, he knew Miss French was an attractive woman, but his appreciation of her beauty had never strayed beyond a detached aesthetically appreciation. There was no point in desiring the impossible, only madness lay that way.

He glanced down at the breast pocket of his suit and gingerly lifted out the crumpled pocket square. The silk was sticky with his cum, totally ruined beyond any hope of laundering clean, but it made him smile. So it had happened then.

When he walked across to the library earlier he’d had a very clear idea of how the interaction would progress. He’d been a landlord for years, he knew how to keep the upper hand when dealing with underpaying tenants, but Miss French had resisted every one of his tried and tested intimidation tactics. Her cool demeanour and adamant refusal that he had made a counting error had thrown him off his game, which probably explained why he made the comment he did when those insane shoes she favoured dumped her on the ground in front of him. 

In a rational world she would have been offended and insulted, both reactions he knew how to turn to his advantage, but she’d fluttered her eyelashes and turned his world upside-down. It had been a very heady experience.

He snorted at the weak pun. His sex life might have been non-existent in recent years, but he was a powerful man and power was an aphrodisiac to some. Oral sex had featured, but only as foreplay to the main event. He’d never been part of such a one-sided sexual encounter, and not one of his past liaisons had left him as shell-shocked as Miss French. She had been on her knees, but he had been at her mercy. 

Gold shuddered at the thought of the damage she could have inflicted on his person. He was under no illusion that Miss French harboured any gentle feelings for him; she disliked him as much as everyone in town did. Doctor patient confidentiality would have gone out of the window if he’d had to limp into the ER and explain bite marks around his privates. One moment of madness provoked by some half-forgotten teenage fantasy could have destroyed his reputation.

He tossed the ruined pocket square into the trash and resolved to consider this experience as one of those stranger than fiction moments that happened occasionally in life.  
With that in mind he pulled his ledger towards him and uncovered the envelope that had contained Miss French’s rent. He was about to drop it in the trash when he realised that it felt thicker than an empty envelope should. Curious as to what else she had felt the need to include with the rent he peered inside and laughed at the leaflet advertising monthly bank transfers. Many people had suggested that he didn’t have to collect the rent in person each month, but none in such a passively aggressive way. He idly flicked open the leaflet in case she had included a message. A crisp fifty dollar bill fluttered free of the glossy paper and landed on his ledger.

He picked it up and stared at it. She had been right; all of the rent was there. Without thinking he folded the note and tucked it into his breast pocket before marking Miss French’s rent as paid in full.

That fifty dollar bill stayed in his breast pocket for the next three days, even when he put on a clean suit the bill was moved over along with all the other things he carried in his pockets. For some reason it was niggling him like a pip between his teeth, a small irritant that he couldn’t explain or resolve. 

He had crossed paths with Miss French in the dinner the day after his visit to the library. She had greeted him with cool politeness and asked him to pass the sugar. Perfectly normal, the sort of brief exchange they had had a million times before. He’d been relieved, not a single thing about her demeanour suggested that anything unusual had occurred between them, and that had lifted the lingering doubt that she would make some reference to what had gone on behind closed doors.

There was some cruel part of him that wanted to return the fifty to her there and then, but that no doubt would have led to awkward questions and since he couldn’t predict Miss French’s reaction he let the moment slide by. 

The fifty dollars kept burning a hole in his pocket, he found himself taking it out and looking at it while he was alone in his shop. Why was this getting to him so much? Miss French had clearly known that the money was in the envelope, and yet she had still blown him away. Balancing the fifty on the counter he realised that the money itself wasn’t the problem. Miss French had been in total control of the situation from the moment her knees had hit the floor, and he’d like it. God above how he had liked it.  
He slammed his hand on to the counter flattening the fifty under his palm. This was pointless! It wasn’t as if he could ask her for a repeat performance, she’d likely bite his head off and report him to the sheriff for harassment. 

He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and swore. He had no idea how to deal with this. His eye fell up on the bank transfer leaflet, which for some reason he’d not thrown away. There was a section for his bank details he could fill it in and give Miss French the form, that way he’d never have to collect rent from the library again. It was the coward’s way out, but if it let him put this whole situation behind him that’s the way he was going to take.

The look on Miss French’s face as he entered the library just before closing made him think that this was a bloody awful idea. She stood silently for a long moment and Gold could appreciate the irony of her using one of his own tricks against him. He pulled the bank leaflet from his pocket and offered it to her.

“I, erm I found this with the missing fifty dollars from your rent. I’ve filled in my details so you can set up the transfer.”

She plucked it from his fingers, but still didn’t say anything.

“Well, good evening Miss French.”

He turned on his heel and walked towards the door feeling oddly disappointed. As he reached for the handle she said; “How did you enter my trade into your books Mister Gold?”

He glanced back over his shoulder, not quite daring to look at her; “I didn’t. Double entry book keeping doesn’t have a notation for this sort of situation.”

She hummed thoughtfully; “But you received a service, there is an imbalance now don’t you think?”

A shiver ran down his spine, she was in total control again, and it was more intoxicating than last time. He turned to face her and found that she’d perched herself on the edge of one of the tables.

“What do you suggest we do to correct that Miss French?”

She let her legs loll open and hitched her skirt up to mid-thigh. He blinked in shock; she couldn’t be suggesting, no, not a chance. She rolled her eyes at him; “Cuninglingus is the only way to balance fellatio wouldn’t you say?” 

He ran his tongue over his lips and swallowed hard against his suddenly dry throat. Miss French grinned at him; “Come on Gold, or can that tongue of yours only insult people?”

The challenge in her words stoked his competitive side. He made his way swiftly to her, dropping his cane and pulling his tie loose as he knelt at between her knees, the twinge from his bad ankle ignored as he pushed her skirt up to her waist.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, some part of him expecting her to push him away. Belle huffed; “Knew you wouldn’t have…”

Whatever she was going to say was lost as he lunged forward and shoved her panties to one side. In the past when he’d done this he’d started slow and let the sensations build, but now he just dove in lapping at everything with his tongue. She moaned when he chanced upon her clit and the sound gave him enough presence of mind to slow down and do this properly.

He whimpered when one of her hands wound into his hair to hold him in place as she rocked against his face. She’d lasted longer than he had, but she was so close now. He slipped a finger into his mouth while trying to maintain his rhythm. The slicked finger slid down to her entrance and gently petted in time with his tongue. Above him Miss French swore. Feeling brave he started thrusting his finger in and out of her. Her thighs tightened around his head and she gave a shuddering moan as she came. Gold kept going until her grip on him eased. He carefully eased her panties back into place and pulled away from her.

Reaching for his cane and pushing himself to his feet gave him a moment to compose himself before he looked at Miss French. She was flushed and looked sated. She watched him with lazy hooded eyes as he took today’s pocket square from his pocket and wiped his face clean.

“I believe that balances the books between us Miss French. I’ll show myself out.”

He made it as far as the door when she called out: “Gold?”

Turning to look at her was easier this time. His head tilted to one side as she held up the bank leaflet and tore it neatly in two.

“See you next month for the rent.”

“As you wish, Miss French.”

For the second time in a week Gold left the library in a state of confusion, but this time he couldn’t keep the grin from his face.


End file.
